Not Heat
by Firmament
Summary: Max battles with another one of her cycles while trying to keep Logan out of the line of fire. Completed
1. The Hunger

**Disclaimer:**_ Dark Angel belongs to Fox and some other. "The Blood Angel" caption comes from Codex Imperialis, however highly modified it may be._

**Author Note:**_ This is an incredibly dark, and disturbing piece of writing, and I warn you all before you begin. The contents will most likely offend and distress all. High levels of gore and horror theme ensue (but not really this chapter). I have questioned my sanity after writing this, and my sanity said I was in trouble… so you get the idea. I really don't want to hear from a 'concerned mum' or anything like that, 'cause you have been amply warned. Let me know what you think, the next chapter is almost finished._

**_The Hunger_**

_The Blood Angel _

_Upon the seed of the Blood Angel there lies the most tainted curse of perverse genetics, a foulness that cannot be seen, which is covered over by the grace, intelligence, and high achievements that are the proud boast of this most noble of creatures…_

Max stalked through the black night melding with her allies the shadows, until she came upon an old, worn metal door that was her target. She glanced the door over quickly, and realised that her usual finesse of picking a lock would not be required. Her foot slammed noisily into the – what was once – heavy metal door. The sections of rust gave easily, creating a hole large enough for a large dog to crawl through. So a small cat would have no problem.

Moving swiftly through the corridors of the dark rundown building she approached her goal, feeling comforted now that her desires would be sated. She quickly unlocked the large freezer door, and made her way instantly to the choice cuts of meat that were lined up. Grabbing a few bags of the frozen red bricks, she threw them in her pack and left the freezer and the building.

On her bike, she sped through the night, avoiding the sector police and generally enjoying the sensations associated with going fast in reckless abandon. As much as she tried, however, she couldn't shake the urge that had arisen only earlier that morning. 

Another one of the frightening aspects of being a genetically engineered Manticore super-soldier. Once every three years, she had an uncontrollable and insatiable adience route through, and completely overtake her body. This desire, this dark need, sickened her to the pit of her stomach, but thankfully she had been able to satisfy it without anything serious, or even threatening happen at all.

This time around, however, she was scared, something felt different, and a dread deep within her knew why it was. She ignored it, there was nothing that she couldn't accomplish with some sturdy will power, and her recent acquisition would most probably get her through it without a worry in the world.

Max's eyes darkened as she rounded the corner, heading to her place. She couldn't believe the people at Manticore would create something that invoked such an unbelievable lust burning within her. This despicable triennial event, this ache for blood.

It was late when Max got back into her apartment, so she carefully laid the meat out to defrost before heading to bed, tired from the strain the curse racking her veins created.

She awoke very early the next morning to find the steaks were nice and defrosted. Smiling that this ordeal was soon to be over, she turned on the hot plate. A few minutes later, she threw a steak on the plate, searing it lightly before turning it over. In all her previous encounters of this yearning, which hadn't been too many thankfully, she had been able to check her desires with a nicely undercooked piece of meat. Max licked her lips as she watched the juices flow from the cooking lump of beef, the want in her growing stronger by the second as the smell of it assaulted her nostrils.

Unable to hold herself back any longer, she took the undercooked piece of meat from the hotplate, placed it on a dish, then walked to the small table to sit down and get this hunger over with.

Picking up a fork, she stabbed the tender piece of meat and shivered with a strange sickening delight as she saw more crimson juice flow from the slightly browned steak. Her hands shook as the knife came in to cut a small slice, releasing more thinned blood onto the plate surrounding the meat.

Somewhere, deep in her subconscious, started to become worried with the strength this curse was seemingly controlling her this time. Before she knew it, the cutlery was discarded to the floor and the lump of bloodied steak was in her hands, as she sank ravenous teeth into the meat, tearing at it viciously and sucking in as much of the sweet animals life fluid as she could get. Max finished off the meat, and began licking the blood that had run down her fingers and forearms.

After she had finished, she felt a lot better, thinking that this bitch had been beaten. That was until she picked up her plate to take back to the kitchen. When she glanced down at the dish, with all the red liquid swishing around on it, she completely lost control. The plate was soon at an angle as she tipped all the warm fluid into her waiting mouth. Still not filled with that action, she began to lick the plate in a primitive and aggressive nature.

_Oh God, I'm losing it, _Max thought, as she sat still, leaning against the wall and staring at her now perfectly clean plate. Nonetheless, she was once again beginning to feel that it was past and she could go back to functioning like a regular genetically engineered super-being.

There was a ruffled movement, and a stifled yawn; it appeared her roommate was rising.

'Morning Max,' she said, walking into the kitchen in her pyjamas in search of the coffee. When she got into the small kitchenette, she noticed the other defrosted lump of beef – a present Max intended on sharing with Logan – sitting in a shallow pool of the juices that are often released when meat is left to defrost.

'Where did you snag this choice slab of cow?' she asked, very impressed with the quality of meat. It was only then as she held up the dripping side of beef in her fingertips did she notice the time.

'I'm so late. Gotta go Max. I'll see you later.' With that, she ran back into her room, scurried around for a minute, and then rushed out the front door pulling a top on as she went.

Good thing too, since as soon as Max saw the saturated piece of steak, she had to use every quickly failing fibre of self-control not to lunge at it right then and there. As soon as her roommate was gone, it was a different story. Max let out a small growl as she lunged at the steak, tearing at it with her fingers, and shoving soaked fistfuls into her mouth.

Minutes later, Max was on the floor of the kitchen panting, where she ended up in her fervour. Scared, panicked eyes flicked around the room. This wasn't right, her stomach was full, and she still felt starving. It hadn't worked, the bloodied meat could only carry her for so long, which she knew deep down would be the case. Max slapped herself; she was not giving up the fight and getting hysterical over this thing. She could control it if she really wanted to. So she got up, changed from her bloodstained clothing, and headed out the door for work.

Her day had been hell. Ever delivery made, saw her picturing the recipient broken on the floor, bleeding gloriously for her. She knew now that this driving want would only be replete with blood from the living, and blood from a person. Unable to keep a scintilla of food down all day because this thought plagued her and made her nauseous beyond belief, didn't help deter the burning desire one iota. As she was making her way out of Jam Pony, she could feel her skin crawling, her eyes itching and her tongue dry and heavy in her mouth.

'You aiight sugah? You don't look so hot,' Original Cindy observed, the worry evident in her voice. Max snapped around quickly, and looked at her friend, the panic clear in her skittish eye movements. Suddenly she was fully aware of the blood moving in Cindy's veins, the sound of her heart beating, and the faint pulsing at her neck where the artery passed so tantalisingly close to the skin.

'No, I've got to go,' Max said hurriedly, as she turned from her friend and shot out the door on her bike. Max had never scared Cindy before, but she did then. When she turned around, Cindy noticed her eyes were showing early signs of becoming blood shot, her teeth were slightly bared and she appeared to be sniffing the air faintly. The whole experience was bone chilling, like a wolf or some other wild creature was eyeing its prey. Something wasn't sitting right with her boo, and it frightened the hell out of her.

Max broke out of Jam Pony to the smell of a great storm brewing, the kind of storm you can feel coming. She glanced up and saw the sky in a broiling mass of dark foreboding clouds, as the wind picked up rubbish and swirled it around in the air along with some dead leaves. This was going to be one monster tempest. Instead of going home, Max headed straight to the Space Needle, knowing there she would find solitude.

She sat alone on the edge of the towering structure, knees pulled up tightly to her chest, rocking slightly with paranoia. Her skin felt ablaze and stung, like a maniac had a million burning knives and simultaneously stuck them into her skin every time her heart beat. Her eyes, itched uncontrollably, and the world had started to take on a slightly red tinge. Her tongue felt like sandpaper inside her desert of a mouth. Every swallow was a new adventure in pain, as her throat cracked and splintered. That was fine, it was physical pain, and she could deal with it. The worst part was the hunger she felt, a hunger that was clearly seeking human blood. Images would not cease flashing through her mind, of her breaking someone open and drinking from their freshly mutilated body. The worst part was that every time she thought this, she felt better, and even eager for a few minutes, until she could control herself and realise what she was fantasising about.

A big fat droplet of rain splashed heavily against her cheek, crashing into her tormented mind. The storm had come. Suddenly it was pouring, raining so hard all she could see was the three feet of water around her, and all she could hear was the deafening roar as the rain pounded against the steel of the Space Needle. Max tilted her head skywards slightly, and opened her mouth, in an attempt the dry her tongue and throat. When the first overweight globule hit her tongue, she gagged. It tasted like battery acid, and felt even worse. This, she knew, was a sign from her body. It was only going to accept one thing, or shrivel up and die.

_Well I deserve to die_, Max thought coldly, and remained moored to the Space Needle in the endlessly driving rain.

She didn't know what the time was; all Max knew was that it was late, very late. The deluge hadn't subsided or even waned a little, if anything it had become more ferocious. She hadn't moved since first arriving on the Needle, but now, her body was beginning to shake uncontrollably, and she could feel her mind slipping.

A sudden spark of inspiration hit. Logan.

_No, I can't go over to his place. I don't trust myself, _the final edges of sanity nagged at her, but it was in vain, as her descent from the Space Needle had already begun.

Max made her way silently into Logan's apartment, dripping constantly and creating small puddles with each squelched step. She heard the slight hum of his computer and knew that her target was close, and it would not be long until she would be satisfied.


	2. The Release

**Disclaimer: **_Dark Angel belongs to Fox and some other. "The Blood Angel" caption comes from Codex Imperialis, however highly modified it may be._

**Author Note: **_The dark and disturbing fic continues. This chapter most likely spells the end of this story, but may not… depends. The only thing I would like to point out is this; Max is by no means a vampire, or anything close. There is one trait in common, and it is slightly different anyway. Just thought I'd clear that up._

**_The Release_** _The Blood Angel _

… Yet, there is a fire that burns behind the eyes of these few DNA cocktails of Manticore and it is bright with a thirst. A thirst that only the blood of man will slake.

She moved with steady purpose towards the humming computers, and what she knew to be contained within that very room. Her painfully scratchy eyes dilated, assisting her vision through the blackened apartment, even though everything was slightly blurred now in a faint red haze.

Max rounded the corner to his study, and stood in the doorway surveying the room and all that was in it for a few very satisfied and pleased moments. It was empty.

_Thank God, the man does sleep,_ she thought, as she sat in his chair and wiggled the computer into action by way of its mouse. Just as she was about to type in the password she saw a little note stuck on the side of the main screen.

_"Tell Bling and Max new passwords"_

Obviously Logan, in his secure efficiency, had changed all the passwords again and was yet to tell her.

Frustrated she smacked in a few strings of characters and numbers, but to no avail. Discouraged she hit the keyboard rather hard and swung around in the chair, trying to decide what to do now.

Her intent originally had been to use Logan's Informant Net to locate a real bad egg of society, which despite all the humanities in the world, really should just be removed from the population. It sickened her more than she could comprehend that she was going to use the Informant Net as a menu to remove the terrible hunger that stung at her every nerve. If it was just the pain she could have handled it easily, but she knew it was warping her mind as well, and she also knew that if she didn't let it out in a semi-controlled fashion, she would end up hurting someone close to her. Sure it was selfish, but some people didn't deserve to live as much as others did.

Sitting there in a hopeless murk, Max noticed the filing cabinet.

_Might as well try the old fashioned way,_ she thought dryly, standing on shaky legs and breaking open the locked cabinet with a swift yank. She knew she should be quieter, but her anxious body forbade any actions to be carried out in its usual silken manner, settling instead for uncontrolled jerky movements.

Swinging back around in the chair, she dumped the collection of files onto the table, and began leafing through them. The hunt had started.

Logan had had a reasonably miserable night, what with his favourite cat burglar not answering his insistent paging, or dropping in unrepentantly after a meal. Over the time he had known Max, he had become very attached indeed. To spend every free moment he could spare with her was his secret goal, which was usually fairly successful, seeing as he had all the good food.

He could see their relationship going from strength to strength as Max spent more and more sleepless nights occupying his guestroom – even though (by the use of hidden cameras set up throughout the apartment) he discovered that a lot of those hours were spent sitting in the chair in the corner of his room, watching him sleep. Or simply, more often during the day he would find her hanging around at his place. Even though she said she did it for a fancy breakfast and a decent shower or because she was in the area and wanted to kick back for a bit, he knew she was doing it partly because he wanted her to and partly because she actually wanted to. These facts alone would often send delightful shivers through his body. No matter what sullen and depressed mood he was in, thinking about Max for several minutes always shifted him right up there to cloud nine, and for that he had to thank her or at least his shiny Bast statue.

All sorts of ridiculous notions of proclaiming his love to her often flitted through his head in the wee hours of the morning, when the brain is so delightfully pliable that anything is possible, even reciprocation.

A smile wore his lips as he fell asleep, for tonight's pleasant wandering of the psyche saw him and his unspoken angel curled together in snuggled warmth that shunned the evenings terrific storm.

A loud noise woke him with a start. He concentrated against the pounding rain to determine if there was something there, or if he had merely ideated it. Several seconds passed and his heart began to return to it's normal pace, as he assured himself there was no danger and the sound was only a phantom of his unconscious imagination. Suddenly another loud clatter, which sounded distinctly like the bending of metal, snatched his attention and doubled the rate of his heart. There was someone in his study, and that someone seemed to be tearing it apart.

Leaving no time for proper attire, Logan slipped into his wheelchair and slowly rolled in the direction of his study. In all his contingency plans for emergency situations, none of them saw him in any other room of the apartment than his study. Due to this fact, the only gun he owned was in the same drawer it had always been in, which happened to be the room the intruder currently occupied. 

Logan couldn't believe the amount of sound emitted from his tires as the tread whirred against the polished wooden floor, and even though he knew that the sound would not be heard in his study over the slight hum of computer fans, it was still disconcerting. Approaching the room, he was surprised not to see any traces of light, not even from a small torch.

Max's reading was interrupted by a muffled ruffling noise. She paused slightly and when she heard nothing more, put it down to her tormented brain and the ferocious weather that hammered the side of the building relentlessly. Suddenly an all too familiar sound met her ears, as a dark dread grabbed painfully hard in her chest. All she could hear now was the genetically amplified sound of the gentle whir Logan's tires made against the hardwood, and the ever increasing pounding of her heart.

Max froze in her seat, not breathing, not blinking. The only activities her body were capable of were listening to the sound Logan's wheels made, drawing him closer to her, and the erratic thumping object in her chest, which threatened to break through her ribcage at any moment. Maybe if she was still enough he would just go back to bed, leave her be, and not endanger his life by confronting her. She didn't want to see him, not when she was like this because she wasn't sure if she could contain the burning desire within her.

The light flicked on, filling the room with a pasty white light, blinding Max instantly, and splitting her heart in two. This wasn't good at all, not for Logan.

'Max, what are you doing? Is everything okay?' he asked, at first surprised to see literally the girl of his dreams, and then shifting to concern as to why she would be in his study dripping wet in the middle of the morning. She didn't say anything to him or move at all, instead just remained hunched over what looked like some files, taking deep controlled breaths.

Her brain was alive with activity, two sides struggling in competition for the control of her body. The animal in her was aching to attack the living, beating heart she could hear behind her, but her mind was still controlling the situation, even if by the feeblest of threads. Logan said something that she didn't hear or understand, and with the sound of his voice the lust began to shoot adrenalin and endorphins through her body, creating waves of highs and pleasure.

_No! I am not going to. It's Logan, I love him._

Had Max not been fighting the curse pulsing through her system, the frankness of her confession would have shocked her deeply.

'Logan, go back to bed. I don't want to hurt you,' Max pleaded desperately, her body screaming to attack.

'Max, what's going on?' Logan asked, concern deeply etched in his voice as he rolled closer to her.

'I said go to bed. Get out of here. NOW!' she shouted, hitting his desk with clenched fist causing many objects to fly in various directions then clatter noisily on the floor. Logan stared at a pen that was spinning on the ground in front of him. Shocked didn't even begin to describe how he felt.

'Okay, just get me if you need some help,' Logan said cautiously, turning and beginning to roll out of the room.

Max breathed a heavy sigh of relief, feeling the warm blood invading her mouth from her bitten tongue as she watched the red fluid seep from beneath her fingernails that were driving into the palms of her hands.

'Oww,' Logan's cry of pain accompanied a rattling sound. It appeared he wasn't aware of the open filing cabinet, which had collected him in the neck.

Max's eyes darted around to observe the source of pain and noise, and found Logan sitting there, hand rubbing the side of his throat. As is anyone's natural reaction when they hurt themselves, Logan brought his hand around to his face, to determine if he was bleeding. A second after he noticed the blood, Max's senses, which were only tuned for one thing; smelt, saw and practically felt the beautifully enticing glistening red liquid that covered his fingertips.

She lunged.

The soundproof apartment and the deafening roar of the storm outside quickly muted the blood-curdling scream that rent the air.


	3. The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: **_ Dark Angel belongs to Fox and some other. This incarnation of "The Blood Angel" is pure _ Firmament__

**Author Note: **_ The warnings from the first chapter apply to this chapter more than any other. Severe gore and horror themes, I'm really sorry. My advice is not to read on a full stomach. If you want a standard _ Firmament _story conclusion, finish at the second HR; else…. Let me know what you think. This is the end._

_Remember, you asked for this._

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**_The Aftermath_**

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_The Blood Angel_

_The path of the Blood Angel is one which only they themselves can control. It is they who ultimately decide their own fate._

A steady rapping on her face and body abruptly woke Max to a hazy world. She was on the top of Logan's building, lying flat on her back and looking up at the rain that continued to assault her. Something slightly warm but quite squishy she clutched tightly to her chest. A thick warm liquid was in her mouth, which tasted oddly familiar, like that of copper and brass. 

_Oh God._

She sat bolt upright and glanced around quickly. The gravel of the roof surrounding her was stained darker than that a few feet away. It was tainted heavily with blood. She began the panic; her breathing was close to hyperventilation and as she opened her lips to suck in more air, she felt the smooth fluid from her mouth trickle out and down her chin. 

She stood up and headed down stairs. It was easy to tell how she had come to be on the roof by the trail of red, and the bloodied handprints that were strewn on various walls and doors, leading all the way back to Logan's apartment. 

His door hung open and an eerie silence split violently through the air. Max saw now more clearly the heavily dripped trail of shimmering ruby beads of liquid, winking at her from the highly polished wooden floorboards. She anxiously followed them through Logan's place. 

A single beacon of light permeated the heavy cloak of dark in the penthouse, it's source being the study. Max moved toward it, and felt the bile in her sickeningly full stomach turn as she saw a blood splatter glowing through the thin glass partition. She didn't want to go in there, but knew it had to be done. 

She moved closer, her marrow freezing as she saw the smeared pool of blood surrounding an all too inanimate pair of naked feet. Coming completely around the door, Max stopped in horror. Her stomach knotted painfully, and a burning rush of acid forced itself up her throat, until it was finally released as she turned her head. She began to weep as her red vomit splattered the shiny, pristine floor outside Logan's study. Her gut twisted more when she noticed the small chunks it contained, which she knew for a fact were not raw bits of chicken skin. 

Her body continued to heave, even though its contents had been expelled long ago, and her eyes continued to weep as deep sobs racked her frame. She slumped against the wall, and slid miserably to the floor, her hands still clutching the warm spongy object to her chest. 

In the room lay the body of Logan. No, the mutilated carcase of a once great man; his viscera spilling out onto the floor, and his ribcage bare and splintered from the terrible force that had cracked it open. All over his body, hunks of flesh had been replaced by the teeth and fingernail marks that lacerated so sadistically his once smooth, beautiful skin. 

Max stood, and looked in at Logan's body again, the fits of disgust having left her only to be replaced by an incredible hollowness. She began to cry afresh when she saw the arm she had broken as he tried to defend himself, and the look of sheer terror that wrought his face and eyes. It was then she noticed the gaping hole in his chest, which was merely broken ribs and harshly masticated flesh. 

'No, no, no,' she began in a disbelieving chant. She then looked down to the object that was clutched so tightly to her chest, and there in her bloodied fingers lay the heart of the man she loved. 

'No! Logan!' 

* * *

'No! Logan! No, no, no!' 

'Max, wake up,' said a familiar voice tenderly, as strong, gentle hands shook her shoulders. Her eyes remained clamped shut, brain struggling to comprehend the visions they had just seen. 

Suddenly pleasant sensations overran her body, as the feeling of crisp, clean sheets scratched soothingly against her naked flesh. Something warm, soft and slightly damp pressed itself against her forehead, but it was sweet. Someone was kissing her, and it felt very relaxing and reassuring. 

'Are you alright, Max?' The affection from his hands and voice seeped through her skin and warmed her soul. There was only one person it could possibly be. 

'L-Logan?' she asked tentatively, her eyes still not opening. The body that had been leaning over her shifted a bit, and she felt the rays of strong sunlight begin to heat her legs and stomach through the thin bed linen. 

'Yeah, what is it, Max?' Logan replied cautiously, clearly worried about her. She breathed a large sigh of relief. 

'Nothing, just a really bad dream.' Her eyes finally fluttered open sleepily, her world fuzzy from the torments of her nightmare and the sun coming through the window. 

'What the hell was I doing to you?' Logan asked lightly, trying to slacken the mood a little. Max looked at him and blinked back some tears; he was alive. 

'Nothing, I-I did something… I really don't want to think about it.' 

'If you say so. I've got the perfect thing to take your mind off it,' Logan replied with a smile, more than willing to let it go for Max's sake. 

'Breakfast?' Max asked eagerly. 

'You've got it. Although, you did ruin my surprise,' Logan responded, quickly planting a kiss on Max's nose. He sat up in bed; the sheet falling away from his bare chest, making Max pretty certain that like her, the rest of him was bare also. She sat up too, intent on getting out to the kitchen and the food. As the sheet slipped from her shoulders and the sun shone on her gloriously coloured skin, Logan lent over and placed a hand on her chest, just below her neck and just above her breast. 

'No, you stay here. That's the new surprise. Breakfast in bed,' he chortled, and with a quick peck on the lips pushed her back down before jumping out and leaving the room. 

_Mmm. I could definitely get use to this,_ Max thought, as she stretched luxuriously, arching her back and cracking some fingers in the process. The warmth of the sun washed over her, caressing her body with the lazy heat and glow. She rolled on her side so the sun could tickle her back while she smoothed her hand over the warm patch of sheet that Logan had been occupying minutes earlier. 

Logan returned shortly, bringing a full tray of goodies with him. He walked around to the side Max was on and placed it on the bedside table. 

'Sit up, please,' he asked kindly, whilst ordering some of the items on the tray. Max sat up and the sheet fell away, pooling around her waist. Logan looked at her and smiled warmly. 

'God, you're stunning.' 

'Not so bad yourself,' Max replied, running a few fingers along his nearest forearm. 

'Lean forward a sec. I don't want you scolding anything,' Logan requested cheekily, before tying a large white napkin around Max's neck. He then picked up the tray and placed it over her lap, sitting it on small legs. 

'There you go, breakfast in bed.' 

'Aren't you having anything,' Max asked, half a piece of toast already in her mouth. 

'I feast on all I need with my eyes,' Logan replied with a sparkle in his voice, before grabbing a piece of toast and munching on it. He lounged across Max's legs, staring at her intently across the small tabletop the whole while. She smiled with the exchanged looks and the feel of him stroking her leg automatically from where his hand had landed on her thigh. 

'This is so good, Logan.' 

'It's only toast, you haven't even had the panca-' 

'No, this,' Max interrupted, gesturing with her half eaten slice between the two of them, 'you and me. Us.' 

'Yeah, I still can't believe you were stupid enough to go for me. But hey, I take what I can get.' 

'Shut up,' Max admonished, feigning annoyance as she threw her toast at him. 

The meal was spent in companionable silence as the two ate, sharing loving glances the whole while. Eventually the food was finished and Logan put the tray back on the bedside table. Max tugged at the cloth until it came loose, and then threw it on top of the tray before lying back down. 

'I don't ever want to get out of this bed,' she said dreamily, closing her eyes and letting the warm sun wash over her exposed flesh. She smiled as she felt Logan's hand slide smoothly onto her stomach, where it made small circular patterns. Her eyes snapped open when something warm and wet hit her tummy, only to find Logan wielding the syrup bottle and a mighty grin. 

'Don't, you'll make me all sticky.' 

'Oh shucks, I guess that means we'll have to have a shower afterwards. Which is always hell,' Logan replied facetiously, his smile getting bigger. He ran a smooth line of the golden liquid from just above her bellybutton, up her stomach, through the valley of her breasts and stopped at her throat. Max tilted her head back so the syrup would stay were it was supposed to, and not become squashed between her chin and neck. 

'Now what,' she asked good-humouredly. 

'What, you mean you don't know?' Logan replied incredulously. 

'Well, you are one for doing things diffe-eren-ent-ly,' Max managed to stutter out while his tongue began to lap the pancake sweetener off her flat, yet convulsing stomach. 

'That tickles.' 

'Want me to stop?' Logan asked, raising his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed and there was a huge, pleased smile on her face. 

'Want me to kick your ass?' 

Soon enough, Logan had Max once more wriggling with delight, as his tongue made it's way further up her body. Moving closer to the end of his yellow dripped road Max began to stifle giggles. Finally, when they were no longer stifled but small outbursts, Logan stopped. 

'What's so funny?' 

'Nothing. It's just your hair and poorly shaven face lend themselves to tickling the more sensitive areas,' Max replied, laughing at Logan's reaction. 

'Oh, really?' he responded, with a sudden mischievousness about him as an eyebrow rose suggestively. Max didn't have time to react before he returned to the honey trail, purposefully rubbing his scruff over her susceptible skin. 

'No, Logan!' Max squealed with hysterics, as he tormented her so delectably. She grabbed the back of his head, her fingers lacing through his hair. 

'Logan, stop it!' she screamed, and as she mussed his hair a little more she noticed a strange stickiness about it. As if it were wet with a thick liquid. Max began to panic. 

'Logan. Logan!' 

* * *

'Logan!' she rasped loudly, her world safe and dark behind closed eyes. Slowly and cautiously she opened them, everything instantly sharp and clear. This was no longer her deluded state of imposed reality, but merely what was and what will be. 

The surrounding suddenly flooded into her mind. She was in Logan's office, the shadows creeping into the room were held at bay by the single light that illuminated the area. The rain continued to pound insistently on the windows and world outside. Her clothes were still sopping wet, and yet there was a different texture to the water that soaked them now. 

It was only when Max realised that her fingers were still experiencing the sensations of a sticky fibrous feel did her heart stop mid-beat. Tentatively she moved her gaze down to view what was clutched so familiarly to her chest. 

The weight she held carried the distinctive colouring of Logan's spikes. Some of the panic she had felt began to fade; it must have been a nightmare. That was until she tried to run her fingers a little further through the hair, and they stuck solid. 

It took a deal of effort to yank her hands free, and when she did, it was not pleasant. Her fingers were covered in caked blood, with pieces of hair glued to them in small chunks. She tried to slide Logan's head off her but instead of sliding it rolled. 

A sicken vice gripped ice-like to her stomach, twisting and contorting in every way possible. She tried to shimmy back on the hard surface she was lying on, but her hands slipped mercilessly on the slick floor. Glancing at her palms and fingers, she saw them covered in a sickening crimson liquid. 

_No, no, no. This can't be. It just can't._

Slowly standing, she reeled with the smell that hung in the air. A smell so similar to that of a slaughterhouse filled her nostrils as she shifted her gaze to the space of floor she had just vacated. The rush of acid and bile that forced its way painfully up her throat and out her mouth seemed familiar but so much more graphic and violent than previously. Deep, dark red pieces of flesh littered her rejected stomach contents that were now mixing with the spilt blood that seemed to cover the entire floor.

There was no longer a body of Logan, merely pieces that had been torn from sockets and scattered throughout the room. She backed away in horror, only to stumble on an arm that was missing several of its fingers. Her body began to shake and rock in shock, as she slowly descended once more to the floor. When she arrived, sitting on peculiarly bent legs, she noticed the weight that had been on her chest to start with. Logan's head lay detached on the ground, a small segment of the brainstem and spinal cord hanging from the bottom.

There was no scream to echo from the walls, or tears for falling, she merely sat there soaking up the filth she had created for herself. Her body no longer ached, her eyes no longer itched, and her tongue felt like velvet in her mouth. Her body was charged like she had never felt it before, full and completely satisfied.

Slowly, smoothly, and powerfully she rose to her feet and walked out the door, from his apartment and down the street. Back to Manticore, where they would put her in a cage like an animal and run tests on her for the rest of her life. Back to where they would give her what she deserved. What was the point in freedom now?

  
  


  
  


**end**

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  



End file.
